


The DUFF (Designated. Ugly. Fat. Friend)

by IdontlikeIobsess



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fuckbuddies, Fuckbuddies To Lovers, M/M, The Duff AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 03:34:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3312398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdontlikeIobsess/pseuds/IdontlikeIobsess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek sighs and gives Stiles a pitiful look. “I’m sorry to be the one to break this to you but... you, my friend, are the Duff.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, what?”</p><p>“Duff. Designated. Ugly. Fat. Friend. Hey, don’t worry! This doesn’t mean you actually have to be ugly or fat. In fact, I’d say you’re kind of scrawny. But, I mean, look at your friends,” Derek says, nodding again towards Scott, Allison and Lydia. “The couple is sickeningly cute and the red head is hot. What do you have in common with them? I’m sorry, Duffy, but that’s the truth.”</p><p>Teen Wolf/The DUFF AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The DUFF (Designated. Ugly. Fat. Friend)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Teen Wolf/The DUFF AU that I decided to write just to have a little fun. The plot is more or less the same as the book's, even if I made some changes to fit the characters and their stories. I'm afraid I made Derek a lot less arrogant and self-centered than Wesley in the book, and the same goes for Stiles, who's a lot less cynical than Bianca.
> 
> I recommend the book to everyone! I think it talks about an interesting concept and Kody Keplinger is an amazing writer. The movie is coming out this month, even if from what I saw from the trailers they changed the plot quite a lot.

The Jungle is packed that Saturday night, but instead of dancing with his friends Stiles has decided to sit at the counter, happy with just watching Scott, Allison and Lydia go crazy on the dance floor. They know he doesn’t feel comfortable dancing in the dark pressed up against a bunch of strangers, but every time Scott asks him to come with them with his huge, puppy eyes, Stiles finds himself sitting on a stool at the counter, talking to Danny. The positive thing about Danny is that he keeps Stiles company while works, serving drink after drink with the speed of a professional bartender. Danny is funny and kind and the nephew of the Jungle’s owner, so he works at the bar almost every night. The negative thing about Danny is that they grew up together, so he knows exactly how old Stiles is and he refuses to serve him anything more alcoholic than water.

“I need vodka,” Stiles says, just to mess with him. “I think Scott and Allison are making out in the middle of the dance floor. Could they be more in love?”

Danny passes him a glass of water and smiles. “I don’t think so. Why don’t you go and dance with them? Look at Lydia. She’s having a _lot_ of fun.”

“Bad breakup,” Stiles says. “She’s still recovering.”

When Danny walks on the other side of the counter to serve two sweaty girls, Stiles looks at his friends once again. Lydia is dancing with a guy Stiles has never seen before, and Scott and Allison are still making out beside one of the huge speakers on the floor. He snaps back to reality when someone sits on the stool next to his and a voice he can only define as sexy orders a coke.

“Hey,” the guy says. He’s not just a guy, and Stiles has to control every inch of his body not to flail in front of him. Sitting next to him is Derek Hale, the cocky, arrogant, hot as fuck basketball star of Beacon Hills High School, mostly known for his amazing three-pointers and for his endless list of one night stands. Stiles knows for a fact that half the school population has slept with him and the other half would want to, if only they could manage to catch Derek’s attention. Not that Stiles belongs to any of these categories. He _hates_ Derek Hale because he belongs to that god-blessed category of people who can get away with everything just because of their looks and therefore think they can do and say whatever passes through their minds.

Stiles nods at him, sipping his water. He tries to assume a cool pose, leaning with his elbows on the counter, but he slips on something slimy and barely saves his glass from falling on the ground. Derek smirks, giving Stiles a once over with his incredible hazel eyes. Derek Hale may be a jerk, but no one in their right mind could deny that he is, without a doubt, the most beautiful boy of Beacon Hills High with his dark, short hair and his perfect body.

“Your friend is hot,” Derek says, jerking his chin towards the dance floor.

Stiles has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Another reason why he doesn’t like going to the Jungle is the occasional guy who tries to pry from him information about his friends. Most of the times is just some freshman girl making heart-eyes at Scott or some older guy who wants to know how old Lydia and Allison are, and Stiles usually sends them away with a broken heart.

“Sorry, he’s already dating someone,” Stiles says. “You know, Allison. The girl who’s _making out_ with him.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t talking about McCall. Your other friend, the red head. What’s her name?”

“Why don’t you go and ask her? It’s probably the best way to get in her pants,” Stiles spits out. Of course Derek wants to hook up with Lydia. They’re probably a match made in heaven, the couple who would win every beauty competition if Derek was actually capable of dating.

“Wrong,” Derek says. “The best way to get in her pants is being nice to her best friend. In this case, _you_. If she sees me talking to you, there’s a 90% possibility she’ll ask me to go home with her later. It’s scientifically proven.”

Stiles winces. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Derek sighs and gives Stiles a pitiful look. “I’m sorry to be the one to break this to you but... you, my friend, are the Duff.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Duff. Designated. Ugly. Fat. Friend. Hey, don’t worry! This doesn’t mean you actually have to be ugly or fat. In fact, I’d say you’re kind of scrawny. But, I mean, look at your friends,” Derek says, nodding again towards Scott, Allison and Lydia. “The couple is sickeningly cute and the red head is hot. What do you have in common with them? I’m sorry, Duffy, but that’s the truth.”

Stiles isn’t really a violent guy. He has always been known for being the one who tried to think logically before acting. Right now, though, Derek Hale has really overstepped. Stiles tightens his hold on his half- full glass of water and empties it right on Derek’s head, leaving him with his hair sticking to his forehead and with his shirt soaked. Stiles takes one step closer and looks Derek straight in the eyes.

“If you think I’m letting you near my friend, you couldn’t be more wrong,” he hisses. “And my name isn’t Duffy, you jackass! I’m Stiles Stilinski and we’ve been in the same English class since freshman year! Maybe you would have noticed if you weren’t such a self-absorbed cunt!”

He takes one last look at Derek and then walks away, reaching his friends on the dance floor. “Guys, I’m going home,” Stiles says. “See you on Monday, okay?”

“Did something happen?” Scott asks. He stops dancing and drags Allison closer to him, focussing on Stiles.

“No, everything’s fine.” Stiles doesn’t want to tell his friends he’s apparently a Duff, not when they’re having so much fun. He’s going to talk to Scott on Monday and complain about Derek Hale and the fact that he’s a total jerk. “I’m just tired. Say bye to Lydia for me, okay?”

Scott and Allison nod, and Stiles can finally leave the Jungle. He’d really like to say that Derek’s words didn’t have an impact on him, but he knows deep inside that’s not true. Stiles never thought about his circle of friends that way, but he really is the Duff when he thinks about it. The less cool one, the single one, the one who can’t keep still for more than five minutes and who never shuts up.

 _Derek is just a stupid jock_ , Stiles tries to convince himself. He thinks about it all weekend, and it’s like the word _Duff_ is stuck in his head, whirling around in every thought and popping up when he least expects it. He shouldn’t care about what Derek said, but he feels so frustrated and irritated by Monday morning that he can’t help but channel his anger on the people who least deserves it. Scott is talking to Allison near his locker when Stiles stomps down the hallway and fixes them with a threatening look.

“Why didn’t you tell me I was the Duff?”

“A what?” Allison asks.

“A Duff. Designated, ugly, fat friend.” God, he hates that it took him just a few words from Derek to memorize the acronym without a second thought. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m confused,” Scott says.

Lydia walks beside Stiles and links their arms together, dropping a kiss on his cheek. “What are you talking about?”

“I think he’s going crazy,” Scott says. “He keeps talking about being a Duff.”

“Who put this stupid idea in your mind, Stiles?” Lydia asks.

“You know what Duff means?” Allison says.

“Of course I do,” Lydia says, twirling her hair behind her shoulder. “Stiles, answer my question.”

“I—I don’t really want to talk about it.”

His three friends stare at him for a moment before Lydia speaks up. “Was it Derek Hale? I saw you talking to him the other night.”

Stiles tries to deny it, but his blush is enough to make his friends angry. “He’s just a stupid jock. I shouldn’t think about what he said,” Stiles declares. “Also, he wanted to sleep with you, Lyds. He said that you might have noticed him if he talked to me... the Duff.”

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” Lydia says.

“That’s what I said!” Stiles says.

Lydia sighs. “Too bad Derek’s that stupid. He’s really hot. Does he really believe in this Duff thing?”

“Please, stop saying that word,” Scott says.

“Yes,” Allison agrees. “Let’s just erase this stupid word from our minds.”

 

*

 

“Hey, Duffy.”

Stiles shuts his locker close and glares at Derek, who’s smirking at him in his basketball shorts and shirt. He’s a little sweaty from practice and his hair is sticking to his forehead in the same way it did when Stiles emptied the glass of water on his head. He looks as hot as always, though, and Stiles hates himself a little for thinking about Derek Hale in that way.

“Don’t talk to me,” Stiles says. He starts to walk away, but Derek follows him and keeps talking like Stiles hasn’t said a word.

“You know I have to talk to you,” Derek says. “We have an English project to do, after all. So, your house or my house?”

Stiles sighs. Just when he was about to forget about Derek and the whole Duff thing, his English teacher had decided to pair them up for a project. “You’re not putting a finger into my house,” Stiles says through clenched teeth. “And I don’t want to be in your house, either. I’d say we can meet at the library.”

Derek’s face falls. “The library? Could you be more boring?”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “I’m not coming to your house. We can meet at the library or I can tell Mr. Thompson I had to do the whole project on my own. _Au revoir_ , basketball team.”

“Okay, fine,” Derek says. “You’re insufferable, Duffy, did you know that?”

“Maybe it’s something we Duffs do. How could you know?”

Derek smirks and pats Stiles’ shoulder. “See you tomorrow, then. Five pm, okay?”

“Whatever.”

 

*

 

Derek is half an hour late. Stiles wants to kill him. He realizes that he has no way to contact Derek, so he decides to wait ten more minutes and then leave. Stiles is about to grab his things when Derek falls on the seat in front of his, panting and clutching his hand on his heart.

“What the hell, Derek? Where have you been?”

Derek inhales trough his nose and calms himself down before answering. “Chill, Duffy. There was something I needed to do before our library date.”

“This isn’t a date, you idiot.”

“Yeah, but you’d like it to be, right?”

“You wish,” Stiles says. He grabs the books he had looked for in the library before Derek’s arrival and opens one of them. “I’m sure you didn’t read Wuthering Heights, but I found some—”

“I read it, actually,” Derek says.

“You did?”

Derek huffs. “Don’t look so surprised, Duffy.”

“Stop calling me that,” Stiles says, growing irritated by the second. “We’re not friends, we’re not even acquaintances, so stop making fun of me. We should work, so we’ll be done with this stupid assignment as soon as possible.”

Derek nods. “Sorry I didn’t warn you I was going to be a little late,” he says. “I didn’t know how to contact you.”

“Next time, add me on Facebook.”

“Oooh, already thinking about our second date? Where will it be this time, at the theatre?”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Yeah, a lot of people said the same thing. We were actually in a more intimate situation, but I accept the compliment anyway.”

Stiles huffs. “God, stop talking,” he says. “We’re in a library. You should keep quiet.”

Derek winks at him. “Make me.”

Stiles wants to scream. He wants to slam Derek’s head on the table to make him stop looking so smug, but on the other hand he really wants to surprise Derek, silence him for good. All of a sudden, all the irritation and the frustration that had piled up inside him since Saturday seem to erupt, and Stiles launches himself over the table and grabs Derek’s shirt, smashing their mouths together. Derek is too surprised to kiss back, so Stiles pushes his tongue inside Derek’s mouth and takes all Derek is willing to give. When Stiles feels that Derek is starting to react he pulls way, sitting back on his chair. He passes a hand over his mouth and tries not to blush when he looks up at Derek.

“Shut up, now.”

“Wow, Duffy—”

“I said stop calling me that.”

“—I didn’t think you had it in you,” Derek says. “I was pretty shocked, but we could give it another try. I could show you a real kiss.”

“No, thank you. I think I’m good,” Stiles says, shoving the library’s copy of Wuthering Heights at Derek. “Would you please help me with the assignment, now? I have to be home in an hour.”

Derek smiles at him for the first time since the day they talked at the Jungle. It’s not his usual cocky smirk, but a real smile that lights up his whole face. Stiles wants to kiss him again.

“Okay.”  

 

*

 

On Wednesday, Stiles feels like shit. His study session with Derek had made him nervous all night, to the point that even his father had noticed right before leaving the house to go to the police station. Their English assignment isn’t even halfway done and they’ll have to meet again if they want to do a decent job.

“Ehy, buddy.” Scott’s head pops up behind Stiles’ locker. “Everything okay with Derek last night?”

Stiles hesitates for a second. He wants to tell Scott he had kissed Derek in the heat of the moment, but he doesn’t want his best friend to worry about him more than he already does.

“Yeah, it was fine. Derek was the usual jerk, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“Great,” Scott says. “Look, I have big news for you. Guess who I talked to today?”

Stiles shakes his head. “Allison?”

“No, dumbass. I talk to Allison every day. Come on, try harder.”

Stiles shoots three or four names, but can’t guess the correct answer. When he shakes his head again, Scott takes pity on him and smiles at him, excited. “Parrish! Parrish talked to me. He said if I knew where to find you, because he wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh, god,” Stiles says. Stiles has had a crush on Jordan Parrish since their freshman year, from the moment Jordan had smiled at Stiles when Harris had put him in detention. It was a supportive smile, Stiles knew it, and he has always kept smiling at Stiles during the four years they have spent together in school. Not that Stiles has ever had the courage to ask him out. They wave at each other in the hallways, sometimes they hang out with the same group of friends, but nothing more. “Do you know what he wanted to talk about?”

“Nope. He just said he’ll talk to you another time. You have chemistry together, right?”

Stiles nods. “Yes. I guess I’ll find out,” he says, unable to keep a smile off his face. Maybe Jordan wants to ask him out? They’ve been smiling at each other for _years_ , after all. Parrish is also cute and kind and very, very smart. He always answers all the questions in class, even the most difficult ones.

Scott waves him goodbye and heads to his classroom while Stiles makes his way to AP English. Derek is waiting for him by the door, the usual smirk on his lips. He looks unfairly good today, his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and muscled chest. Stiles swallows and calms himself down before he approaches Derek.

“Hey, Duffy,” Derek says. “Second date today?”

Stiles ignores Derek’s joke. “Yeah. Same place, same time?”

For the first time since that Saturday night at the Jungle, Derek looks nervous and unsure. He plays with the hem of his shirt and looks at Stiles with a weird expression on his face. “Actually, I wanted to ask you if we could study at my place today.”

“Why? I already told you I don’t want to be in your house. Alone with you.”

“We wouldn’t be alone. My sister, Cora, has been sick for days. My Mom was with her this morning, but she has to go to work later today. She asked me to keep an eye on her, you know? She has a very bad flu.”

“Okay, okay, stop looking so... cute and caring for you sister,” Stiles says. “We can study at your house.”

Derek smirks again. “Do you know where it is?”

Stiles shakes his head and lets Derek tell him the exact street he lives in, even if Stiles knows where his house is. Everyone in Beacon Hills knows that the Hales’ house –more like mansion—is just before the woods, with a huge garden and a swimming pool. Stiles nods and tells Derek he’ll be at his house at five, like the day before, and then disappears inside the classroom. Stiles waits until Mr. Thompson turns his back to the students before he fishes his phone from his pocket and texts Lydia, who’s sitting on the other side of the classroom.

_I have to go to Derek’s house today and I’m really nervous._

**Why? You just have to study.**

_I may have kissed him yesterday. It was a stupid thing to do. He was being irritating and I wanted to shut him up._

**Stiles! Don’t you find this ironic? YOU wanting to shut someone up?**

**Is he a good kisser? I bet he is ;)**

_I can’t really tell. He was too shocked to kiss back._

Lydia glares at him from her seat, but doesn’t reply right away. She waits until Mr. Thompson is not looking at his students anymore before she types something again.

**You’re not thinking about that Duff thing again, are you?**

_No!_

_...Okay, maybe I am._

**Stiles, you’re smart, kind and the best friend I’ve ever had. Stop thinking about the bullshit Derek Hale says.**

It seems easy, the way Lydia puts it, but it really isn’t. Stiles leaves his house half an hour before five and drives to the Hale’s house, stopping in front of the huge mansion. Stiles locks his Jeep and walks to the door, ringing the bell and waiting outside. Derek opens the double doors shirtless, an arrogant little grin on his lips.

“Oh, please,” Stiles sighs. “You couldn’t have put a shirt on?”

“I wanted to impress you,” Derek grins. He steps away and lets Stiles in, leading the way towards a living room almost as big as Stiles’ entire first floor. There’s a very comfortable looking couch in the right corner, and a lot of pictures on the furniture. Stiles looks at them, spots Derek with his family. They’re all very similar, with black hair and sharp features.

“Laura’s away at college,” Derek whispers behind him. “My Mom and Dad are at work most of the time and Cora is a freshman at our school. She’s upstairs in her room, sleeping off the flu.”

“You have a very...attractive family,” Stiles blurts out. “Do you miss your sister?”

Derek huffs. “She calls every day, I hardly miss her. Sometimes I wish she was there, though,” he says. “I—I’m afraid Cora’s not doing well in school.”

“What do you mean?” Stiles asks. “Is she failing her classes?”

“No, nothing like that. She’s super smart. I’m just afraid she’s picking the wrong friends.” Derek grabs Stiles’ arm and drags him upstairs.

“Where are we going?” Stiles stutters.

Derek turns to look at him. “I have my laptop in my room,” he says. “Don’t worry, I won’t touch you...unless you ask me to.” He winks again—like he did in the library—and opens a door on the left wing of the house. Derek’s room is much bigger than Stiles’, tidier as well. There’s a king sized bed on the right corner and a wooden desk with a laptop on it under the window.

“So, where were we?” Derek asks, sitting at his desk. He gestures for Stiles to sit on his bed, and Stiles falls awkwardly on the mattress, sinking in a little.

“Hey, this is really soft!” Stiles says.

“Do you want to try it?” Derek asks. He’ smirking again, looking at Stiles with a predatory look in his eyes. Stiles knows that look, and he also knows that Derek looks in the exact same way at everyone he wants to sleep with. One night stands are Derek’s thing—everyone knows it—and no longer than a few days ago Stiles thought he was immune to Derek’s looks. Now, thought, sitting on Derek’s bed and with Derek flirting with him inside his bedroom, he’s not so sure anymore.  He thinks he would like to sleep with Derek just to feel the same way he did when he kissed him for the first time, free and sexy, a person who could be attractive to a guy like Derek Hale.

“No,” he says in the end. “Let’s study.”

They settle into an easy rhythm, looking for useful articles on the Internet and sharing their opinions about the book. It turns out that Derek can be really smart when he’s not being a douche, and he makes some intelligent remarks that even Stiles hadn’t thought about. Derek says he didn’t like the book very much, but he founds Heathcliff interesting and he talks about him for five full minutes before he catches Stiles smirking at him from the bed and stops.

“What?” Derek says. “You’re the one who wants to be done with this project. I’m trying to help.”

“No, you were doing good,” Stiles says. “Sorry, keep going.”

“Too late. You distracted me, Duffy,” Derek says. He stands up from his chair and joins Stiles on the bed, placing a warm hand on Stiles’ thigh. He rubs invisible patterns on the denim of Stiles’ trousers and then looks up, an amused glint in his eyes. “You have a pretty mouth.”

Stiles snorts but can’t find an appropriate snarky response, so he keeps looking at Derek. He lifts one arm and links it behind Derek’s neck, pulling him closer. This time, Derek is expecting it. He kisses back and it’s so much better than their first, clumsy attempt that Stiles could keep his mouth locked with Derek’s forever. He feels Derek’s hand sneak under his shirt, stroking his side and playing with his nipples, and Stiles lets himself enjoy the touch for a second more before he pulls away.

“Put your hand away,” Stiles says. Derek immediately retracts his hand and places it on the mattress, away from Stiles. He tries to lean back but Stiles keeps him close, smashing their mouths together once again. They make out until Derek pushes Stiles down on the incredibly soft bed, taking Stiles’ head between his hands.

“Are you sure you don’t want to try the bed?” Derek asks.

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Your sister is on the other side of the hallway. Your parents will be home soon,” he says. “We should behave.”

Derek rolls off him and lays beside Stiles on the mattress, looking up at the ceiling. “I thought you couldn’t stand me,” Derek says.

“Hey, just because I kissed you it doesn’t mean we’re best friends. You still make me want to smack your head against the wall.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were into this kind of things. I’m open to anything, just so you know.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “You’re irritating and you—you infuriate me when you smirk like you’re the only one in control of the situation. I feel like I should tell you... you’re not controlling me. Okay, I kissed you, but I did it because you’re a good-looking guy and you have the ability to drive me crazy after two minutes and—”

Derek stops him with a finger on his mouth. “Okay, okay, I get it,” he whispers, leaning closer to Stiles. “You want me to sleep with you because you think I’m hot and you want to know what it feels like to be really wanted.”

Stiles splutters and shifts away from Derek’s inquisitive glare. “I’d be the one to sleep with you, not the other way around.”

“Isn’t it the same thing? We’ll be in bed together, having sex.”

“No, it isn’t. I’m choosing to sleep with you because I think it would be better for me. Like, if I sleep with you maybe I won’t try to kill you the next time you call me Duffy. I’m not madly in love with you like the rest of your broken- hearted one night stands.”

Derek pushes himself up on his elbows and looks down at Stiles, shrugging. “Okay. Tell yourself whatever you want if it makes you feel better. I’m in, by the way, thanks for asking.”

He kisses Stiles again, keeping his hands for himself this time. Stiles is feeling high from Derek’s kisses and so very comfortable under the weight of Derek’s body, so he can’t help but whine when Derek rolls away and starts straightening his clothes, urging Stiles to do the same.

“My parents are here. We should go downstairs,” Derek says. He shoots a look at Stiles and adds, “Please, do something about your hair.”

“Well, not really my fault, isn’t it?”

They make their way to the first floor, where Derek’s parents are starting to set the table for dinner. They both hug Derek and his mother kisses him on the cheek, making him scowl when Stiles tries to hide his smile.

“Mum, Dad, this is Stiles. We have an English project to do together,” Derek says.

“Oh, so you’re the reason why Derek has been reading Emily Bronte this week,” Derek’s Mum says. “I’m Talia, by the way. Nice to meet you, Stiles.”

“Hey! I’d already read Wuthering Heights!” Derek protests.

“Yeah, but you usually just read the plot on Wikipedia, so this is a nice surprise,” Derek’s Dad says. “I’m John. Would you like to stay for dinner, Stiles?”

“Thank you, but my Dad is waiting for me at home. We always have dinner together,” Stiles says, noticing how relieved Derek looks. He says goodbye to Derek’s parents and tells them he hopes Cora will feel better soon, and then he walks to the front door, followed by Derek.

“You should have my number,” Derek says. “You know...for emergencies.”

“Like, sex emergencies?”

Derek smirks. “Come by tomorrow. We can go on with the project and, you know, try the mattress for real. Cora won’t hear us.”

Stiles shrugs, trying to act casual. “Cool. See you tomorrow,” he says. He jogs away from Derek and starts the Jeep, driving away from the Hale’s house. His heart is pounding, his palms are a little sweaty and he can see his cheeks are a bright shade of red in the rearview mirror. He still feels Derek’s warm hands on his body and Derek’s skilled tongue inside his mouth, and he can’t help but want more. He wants to feel sexy and wanted—just like Derek had said—and he can’t help but count the minutes until the next day.

 

*

 

Stiles is studying in the school library when Jordan Parrish sits next to him, smiling so bright that Stiles almost lets his pen fall on the ground. He catches himself in time though, and he smiles back at Jordan hoping he doesn’t look like a fool.

“Hi, Stiles,” Jordan says. “Can I talk to you for a minute? It’s okay if you’re busy, I can wait.”

Stiles closes his textbook. “I’m free. Totally free. So, what can I do for you?”

Stiles wonders if Jordan will finally ask him out or if he’s just trying to make small talk because he doesn’t have anything better to do. Honestly, he’s expecting everything but the words that fall out of Jordan’s mouth. “I’m actually here to ask you a favour,” Jordan says. “You probably don’t know, but I’d like to be a cop after graduation. I’ve already looked for the best schools on the Internet and I applied, but I wanted to talk to a real cop. I have so many questions. Do you think your father could find ten minutes for me?”

He looks so hopeful and genuine in his interest that Stiles has to be careful and not let his face fall in disappointment. He tries to smile at Jordan and he mentally checks when his Dad could be free during the week. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to talk to you,” he says. “He was so sad when I told him I didn’t want to be a cop, he’ll be happy to tell you all the things he didn’t tell me. I have to ask him when he’s free, but I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Really?” Jordan asks, his eyes wide with excitement. “God, Stiles, you’re amazing! I’m really nervous about talking to him. I’d like to work here in Beacon Hills once I’m done with school.”

Stiles listens to Jordan talk about cop school for a while, but then the conversation shifts to the classes they share together and to their common interests –they both like curly fries, Stiles crows—and eventually to their families and friends. They’ve never talked for more than five minutes in the four years they’ve known each other, but –now that they’re having a real conversation for the first time—Stiles feels like he has known Parrish since forever. Jordan is even more perfect than Stiles could hope, and Stiles is so enthralled in their conversation that he almost misses Derek walking between the shelves. Stiles nods at him and Derek nods back, frowning a little when he sees him talking to Parrish.

Stiles doesn’t care. Jordan is smiling at him again, and Stiles hopes his Dad will invite him over for dinner.

 

*

 

Stiles walks into Derek’s house balancing his backpack on one shoulder and a stack of books between his hands, almost tripping on the carpet in the hallway. “A little hand would be appreciated,” he says when Derek doesn’t move a muscle to help him carry the books upstairs.

“I’m sure you can do it by yourself,” Derek says. He leads the way towards his bedroom and Stiles lets his books fall on the desk, glaring at Derek. He throws his backpack on the ground, but as soon as he’s free of the weight Derek’s hands are on his shoulders, massaging the tense muscles there. Stiles whimpers and melts under Derek’s touch, angling his neck to give him a better access. Derek leans in and whispers in his ear, “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

The truth is, Stiles has been thinking about sex with Derek all day, too. He had been barely able to focus in class, and the weird looks Lydia gave him hadn’t helped. Stiles turns and links his arms behind Derek’s neck, kissing him deep and slow, savouring the way Derek opens his mouth and lets Stiles take all he wants.

“Are you sure Cora won’t hear us?” Stiles asks.

“Not if you keep quiet.”

This time, when Derek’s hand sneaks under his shirt Stiles doesn’t stop him. They throw their clothes on the ground and when Derek sits on the bed and pulls Stiles in his lap, Stiles follows and straddles him, breaking their kiss to mouth at Derek’s neck. He feels Derek’s hands on his ass, palming at the soft skin of his lower back, squeezing his tights when Stiles bites down on his collarbone.

Derek falls on the bed and stretches an arm out to open the drawer and find lube and condoms, throwing them on the mattress and catching Stiles’ lips again when he sits back up. Stiles groans when his dick brushes with Derek’s, and buries his head on Derek’s shoulder, watching in amazement as Derek works one slicked finger inside his hole.

“Go easy,” Stiles says. “It’s been a while.”

“How long is a while?” Derek pants. He’s still working one finger inside and out Stiles’ ass, making sure to stretch him good.

“A—a year?” Stiles stutters. “I don’t really know for sure.”

“God, a year without sex. No wonder you’re so—” he stops, pushing a second finger inside. “—so rude to me.”

Stiles bites down on Derek’s collarbone again. “Stop talking,” he says. “I want you dick inside me _now_.”

“You’re not ready, yet,” Derek says. He pushes another finger inside and scissors them until all Stiles can feel is the burn of the stretch inside his ass. Derek works his fingers inside him until Stiles is trembling on his lap, biting his lip not to start begging Derek to fuck him. When he’s about to blurt out all the things he want Derek to do to him, Derek puts on a condom, lifts him up by his hips and lets him sink down on his cock, waiting while Stiles moves slowly. Derek keeps his hands on Stiles’ hips, helping him up when his thighs don’t seem to work anymore, and he doesn’t seem able to take his eyes off from the point where their bodies meet.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Derek whispers when Stiles has finally bottomed out.

“Told ya it’s been a while,” Stiles says. His hips start moving on their own accord and all of a sudden he and Derek are rocking together, Stiles moving up and down on Derek’s cock. Stiles feels Derek start stroking his dick, playing with the foreskin and rubbing the head with his thumb, and he can’t keep his mouth shut anymore. He starts moaning and talking about Derek and his stupid, perfect body and his stupid, perfect dick inside him.

“Don’t stop, Stiles,” Derek whispers. “Tell me everything.”

Stiles goes on and on until he can feel his stomach clench and he comes between their bodies, letting his head fall on Derek’s shoulder. Derek rolls them over and braces himself over Stiles’ body, fucking into him until he’s coming, too. They can’t move for a while, but eventually Derek rolls off Stiles and throws the condom in the trash, smirking when he sees that Stiles still has his eyes closed and is tracing invisible patterns on his stomach, humming to himself.

“Are you feeling better now?” Derek asks.

Stiles slowly blinks his eyes open. “You have no idea.”

“Yeah, Duffy, you were pretty good, too,” Derek says. “Maybe this wasn’t your worst idea.”

“I said don’t call me Duffy,” Stiles says. “See, you have the power to irritate me whenever you open your mouth. Can you please shut up and let me enjoy your body?”

Derek shrugs. “What kind of name is Stiles, anyway?”

“It’s not my real name, you idiot. It’s a nickname. My parents had the brilliant idea to give me a Polish name that’s too difficult to pronounce. Still better than _Derek_ , anyway.”

“What’s wrong with Derek?”

“It’s boring. There’s plenty of Dereks in the world, but only one Stiles.”

Derek rolls his eyes and stands up to grab the laptop from his desk. “Oh, shut up. You seemed to like _Derek_ just fine no longer than ten minutes ago.”

“Jerk,” Stiles says.

“Come on, scoot over. We have an essay to finish,” Derek says. He drops back down on the bed and pulls the covers over his lap, booting up his computer. Stiles fishes his boxers from under the bed and puts them on, pulling the covers over himself just like Derek had done.

They study until they hear Derek’s parents at the door and they get dressed quickly, leaving Derek’s warm bed.

“They’ll probably invite you for dinner again,” Derek warns.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bother you with my presence anymore,” Stiles snaps. He ties his shoes and grabs his backpack, leaving the books from the library on Derek’s desk for the next time.

“That—that’s not what I meant,” Derek says.

“My Dad is waiting for me anyway,” Stiles explains. “I’ll go say hi to your parents.”

Derek doesn’t follow him to the door this time, but when Stiles looks up while he’s trying to open his Jeep he sees Derek staring at him from his bedroom window. Stiles waves and Derek winks at him, smirking in his usual way.

 

*

 

Stiles gets to know Cora Hale during one of his study-sex sessions with Derek a week into their new relationship. The youngest Hale is a fifteen year old little girl who still has to grow into herself and become a beautiful woman just like her mother and older sister. She has long, messy, black hair that covers her forehead and she seems shy and nervous when Stiles first talks to her.

To tell the truth, Stiles is just trying to flee because Derek—the jerk—has fallen asleep after Stiles has given him the best blowjob ever, and he doesn’t want to explain to Derek’s parents why Derek’s sleeping when they’re supposed to be studying. As always, his plan goes wrong. Cora intercepts him when he’s halfway down the stairs and Stiles stops in his tracks, staring up at her.

“Hi,” Stiles tries. “I’m Stiles, a friend of Derek’s.”

“I know,” she says. “I’m Cora.”

Stiles doesn’t know what to say for a moment. Has Cora heard them? Oh my god, this is the most embarrassing moment of his entire life. Derek had promised to keep quiet, but Stiles is not sure how loud they’d been in the end.

“Are you feeling better?” Stiles asks, trying to distract her. “Derek told me you have the flu.”

“I should go back to school tomorrow,” Cora says. “Is Derek in his bedroom? I need to ask him something.”

Stiles panics. Derek is in his bedroom, sleeping naked under the covers. His hair is a mess and his lips aren’t much better, so Stiles tries to distract Cora before Derek scars her for life. “Yes, he is. But he said he wasn’t feeling well, you know? It’s probably the flu again. Maybe it’s better if you let him sleep.”

“Oh.” Cora’s face falls. “I wanted to ask him to help me with my homework because I missed a lot of classes this week and I have a lot of catching up to do,” she says. She gives Stiles a nervous smile and starts to back away towards her bedroom.

“Maybe I could help you,” Stiles says before he can stop himself. “If there’s one thing I can do, is school.”

“Are you sure?” Cora asks. “Don’t you have anything better to do? It’s Friday, after all.”

“I’m not really a social butterfly,” Stiles says. He starts walking up the stairs again, smiling at Cora. “What subjects do you need to study?”

Cora shows him her bedroom and they sit at her desk, a lot messier than Derek’s and full of pens, pencils and notebooks. Stiles finds out that Cora is as smart as Derek, but she’s really insecure and she second guesses everything she says, even when she knows that her answers to the questions Stiles asks her are correct. They lose themselves in Cora’s homework until someone clears his throat by the door, and they both look up from Cora’s textbooks.

Derek has a strangely soft expression on his face when he looks at Stiles. “I thought you were gone,” Derek says.

“Yeah, but Cora here needed help with her homework and she wanted to ask you—” Stiles wiggles his eyebrows, trying to make Derek understand what he’s trying to say. “—but I told her you weren’t feeling well. So I helped her.”

“Do you have the flu, Der?” Cora asks.

“I don’t think so, but Stiles is right. I wasn’t feeling very well,” Derek says. “Did you do all your homework?”

“Almost,” Cora says. “Stiles helped a lot. Thank you.”

“Hey, no problem,” Stiles says. “I should get going, now. I guess—”

“No!” Cora says. “Please, stay for dinner. Mum and Dad went out to some charity thing, so we can order pizza! I want to thank you for your help.”

“There’s no need to thank me,” Stiles smiles.

“You should stay,” Derek interjects.

Stiles stays. Cora hurries downstairs to order their pizzas and Derek and Stiles follow her slowly. “I’m sorry if I stayed without asking you first. I just didn’t want her to see you...you know, _naked and fucked out_ ,” Stiles says.

“Yeah, thank you for that,” Derek says. “She doesn’t know about my—my lifestyle. She still thinks I’m her perfect big brother.”

“You mean she doesn’t know you sleep around?” Stiles asks. “Come on, the whole school knows. I think she knows but she doesn’t care. She loves you anyway.”

Derek stops in his tracks. “Are you serious?”

“Derek, she’s fifteen. All her friends are probably drooling after you.”

Derek’s face passes from shocked to smug in a second. “I’d never sleep with a freshman,” he says.

Stiles snorts. “Of course,” he says. “Hey, don’t you have anywhere to be tonight?”

“No, I promised Cora I would have stayed with her,” Derek explains. “She _loves_ rom-coms, so be prepared.”

“Yes!” Cora says from the kitchen. “I can’t wait to watch _Love, Rosie_ tonight. The pizza should be here in fifteen minutes.”

Derek and Cora set the table while Stiles tries to help them, only to be stopped by Cora every time he touches anything. “You’re the guest,” Cora says. “Sit down and wait for your pizza.”

Stiles sighs and sits down on a stool, fishing his phone out of his pocket. He texts Scott and Lydia and tells them he’s having dinner at Derek’s before the doorbell rings and Derek is coming back with three huge pizzas balanced in one hand. Stiles grabs his and listens while Cora chats about the movie they’re about to watch, all her shyness completely gone now that she seems comfortable enough with Stiles.  She tells Stiles that she loves drawing and Derek smiles at her over his pizza, looking fond.

“She’s amazing,” Derek says. “She can draw pretty much anything.”

“Oh, I’d love to see one of your drawings,” Stiles says. “If you want to, of course.”

“I—yeah, I’d like that. Maybe next time you come over?”

Stiles smiles at her, swallowing down his pizza. Derek and Cora accept Stiles’ help to clear the table and then Cora takes their hands and drags them to the living room. She pushes them on the couch and takes care of the DVD, plopping down between them when it’s all set. She buries herself against Derek’s side and pushes her feet under Stiles thigh, watching the movie in fascination.

Half-way through the movie, Stiles turns his head to see Derek watching him. _What?_ , he mouths. Derek shrugs and shakes his head, looking back at the television. Neither of them says a word during the whole movie, interrupted only by Cora’s occasional sighs.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Stiles tells Cora when the movie is over and he’s about to go back home.

She smiles and looks expectantly at Derek. “You can stay whenever you want. Right, Derek?”

Derek smirks. “Of course. I think Cora enjoys your presence almost as much as I do.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. Derek can’t help but be a flirt even when he’s in front of his little sister, and Stiles has already saved his ass once today. He nods and waves goodbye, heading back to his car.

 

*

 

“Hey, Jordan,” Stiles says, stopping beside Parrish’s locker.

“Stiles, hi!” Jordan smiles, half-hugging him. Stiles finds himself relaxing into the embrace, happy to see that Jordan hasn’t forgotten about him right after talking in the library. “How are you? Have you finished your English project? My partner and I can’t seem to agree on anything.”

“Me and Derek are almost done,” Stiles says. He suddenly remembers the previous night, when Derek had pushed him on his bed to blow him under the covers. They had been lucky Cora wasn’t home, because Stiles couldn’t stifle his moans like Derek swears he did the day Stiles helped Cora with her homework. “I just wanted to tell you I talked to my Dad. He said he’d be happy to have you for dinner tonight. If you’re free.”

Stiles watches as Jordan’s mouth fall open with surprise. “Are you serious? The Sheriff invited me to his house?”

“Oh, he’s going to like you so much,” Stiles says. “He loves when someone calls him Sheriff even when he’s not working.”

Stiles tells him where his house is as they both walk together to their AP English class, and he finds out that Jordan doesn’t live far away from his house, just. He finds that talking to Jordan is really easy and that Stiles doesn’t stutter anymore in his presence like he used to do when they first met. It’s only when they part ways to sit at their respective desks that Stiles notices Derek watching him, frowning a little. Stiles shrugs and smiles at him but Derek ignores him and keeps scribbling on his notebook.

 

*

 

“I can’t believe you’re sleeping with Derek Hale and you didn’t tell us,” Scott whispers later that day during lunch. Lydia and Allison are both staring at him disapprovingly, their arms crossed on their chests. “Stiles, buddy, why are you doing this?”

“Look, I told you, it’s nothing serious, okay? We’re just sleeping together. It’s mutually beneficial.”

“You’re fuck-buddies!” Allison says.

Stiles shushes her and looks around to see if someone is listening to their conversation. “Yes, okay? I asked him. I’m sleeping with him, not the other way around.”

“It’s the same thing!” Lydia says.

“No, it’s not. Having sex is good, okay? Having sex with Derek? Amazing. I’m just sleeping with him because he’s hot and I need to let my frustration out so I won’t kill him every time he calls me Duffy.”

“He still calls you that?” Scott says.

“Yeah...sometimes,” Stiles says. “Not when we’re having sex.”

His three friends turn to look at Derek, who’s sitting at his table with his basketball team. He’s scowling down at his tray, and Stiles has to stop himself from asking him what’s wrong. He’d like to make Derek smile like he always does when they’re together, he’d like to make Derek relax by pushing him—

“Stop looking at him that way,” Scott says. “I thought you hated him.”

“I do...I did? I don’t know, sometimes he infuriates me but some other times he’s so different, you have no idea. Like, last Friday we spent the entire night watching _Love, Rosie_ with his little sister. Isn’t it cute?”

“Yeah,” Allison admits. “Are you falling for him?”

Stiles splutters. “What? No! I told you, it’s a no string attached thing.”

Lydia hums. “When are you seeing him again?”

Stiles stands up from their table. “Look, I don’t know okay? We haven’t decided, yet,” he says. “ I have to go to class. See you later, guys.”

 

*

 

They’re sitting cross-legged on Derek’s bed and they have a Scrabble board between them, already half-full with tiles.

“I can’t believe we’re playing Scrabble,” Derek says.

“Shut up. Just because I’m winning,” Stiles says.

Derek spells JERK on the board, hitting the double-word and double-letter bonus and catching up with Stiles. “Here,” Derek says. “You’re not winning anymore.”

Stiles looks at his tiles and smirks. He spells DICK using the K of Derek’s last word and looks up again, waiting for Derek’s reaction. Derek doesn’t say anything, but he looks at the board and Stiles can see the exact moment he finds the perfect spot for his word. He spells SEX, using an E in the right corner of the Scrabble board.

“Is that a suggestion?” Stiles asks.

Derek shrugs. “If you want to, I’m in. I’m beating you, anyway.”

“You’re not! Let’s count the—” Derek shuts him up with a kiss, messing up all the words on the board. All the tiny tiles fall on the floor along with the board, and Stiles falls on the bed with Derek on top of him leaving open-mouthed kisses on his collarbone. They throw their clothes on the floor and Stiles almost falls from the bed when Derek lowers his boxers and lays down on the mattress, naked and more vulnerable than Stiles has ever seen him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Stiles admits. It’s the first time that Stiles has called Derek beautiful. Sure, he has called him hot, sexy and fuckable, but he has never used the word beautiful.

“Stiles, come here,” Derek says, pulling Stiles on his lap. They know that there’s not enough time for Derek to fuck Stiles like they both want to, so they rock together until they’re coming between their bodies, Derek’s arm tightly wrapped around Stiles’ shoulders. Stiles rolls away from Derek and sighs, putting on his boxers again.

“Your parents will be home soon,” Stiles says.

“Are you staying for dinner?”

Stiles shakes his head. “I can’t, I have dinner with my Dad and Jordan,” Stiles says.

“Jordan Parrish?” Derek asks. “The guy in our English class?”

“Yes, he wants to become a cop after graduation, so he asked me if he could talk to my Dad sometime. We invited him over for dinner tonight,” Stiles explains, putting on his clothes again. He shoots a glance at Derek, who’s still lying naked on the bed. Stiles wants nothing more than stay and kiss Derek from the hollow of his neck to his navel and then down to his ankles, but he shakes his head and clears his mind. Derek is scowling at him, hiding himself under the covers.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Derek says. He’s suddenly cold and distant, like he has already forgotten about Stiles. Stiles nods and waves, leaving Derek’s bedroom in a confused haze and dropping by Cora’s room to say hi to her. Derek’s youngest sister is chatting with Laura on Skype, and she introduces them talking about how Stiles had helped her with her homework.

“Derek wasn’t feeling very well,” Cora says.

Laura smirks from her college bedroom in New York. “Oh, really?” she says. “I can’t wait to talk to Derek about this.”

Stiles blushes and excuses himself from the room while the two sisters are still talking, and he drives back to his house just when Jordan is pulling up in his driveway. He has a bottle of wine and a pie in his hands, but he still holds the door open for Stiles when they make their way inside the house. They set the table together while they wait for the Sheriff to come back home, talking about school and all the music they both like.

“Stiles?” the Sheriff calls from the doorway.

“Hey, Dad! We’re in the kitchen,” Stiles says.

Between his Dad and Jordan is love at first sight, and Stiles listens Jordan firing question after question during dinner. The Sheriff talks about all the old cases he solved, alone or with the help of his deputies, and Jordan drinks in every single word he says.

Stiles thinks about texting Derek. He looked weird when he left earlier, and he’d really like to know what’s wrong with him, but he stops himself. He’s not sure Derek would appreciate Stiles asking too many questions, so he decides to shoot him a casual text.

 _I still won, by the way_ , he types, hiding his hands under the table.

**No, you didn’t.**

**Shouldn’t you be talking to Parrish?**

_I think Jordan is a little bit in love with my dad._

_Not like that, you perv! A professional kind of love._

**Great. See you tomorrow?**

_You already said that today._

**Just wanted to be sure.**

_Fine. See you tomorrow._

**Have a good night, Duffy.**

_Yeah, you too._

Stiles smiles and puts his phone back in his pocket, pretending to be really interested in the conversation his Dad and Jordan are having. When Jordan goes back home later that night, Stiles quickly goes upstairs and changes into his pajamas. Before he falls asleep he checks his phone to find a new text from Derek.

**I won, by the way.**

*

 

Stiles is about to leave the school and go home when he spots Cora in the nearly empty hallway near the gym, where she practices with the other cheerleaders. She’s balancing five empty water bottles in her hands, and she has almost made it to the fountain when she trips on her own feet and all the bottles fall down on the floor. Stiles runs to her, kneeling down to help her.

“Hey, Cora,” he says. “Maybe one at a time would be better?”

Cora looks up at him and tries to smile, but her eyes are watering and her mouth is twisted in a close-lipped grimace. She kneels to grab the empty bottles, but they fall again because she’s trembling and she can’t seem to be able to hold them all at once.

“Cora, what happened?”

“Nothing. Just—the other cheerleaders asked me to fill their bottles. They said I wasn’t doing so well during training anyway,” she explains. She grabs two bottles and walks to the fountain, filling them and then putting them on the ground.

“Why did you have to do it for them? You’re on the team, Cor, you’re not their maid.”

“Yeah, I—I guess I wasn’t good enough to keep training with them,” Cora says. She wipes away her tears and fills two more bottles. “I have to hurry back. Please, don’t tell Derek.”

“Hold on a second,” Stiles says. “You don’t have to do this for them. You know that, right? Did they ask you to do other things, too?”

“Sometimes they ask me if I can borrow them money for lunch, but they never give it back to me,” Cora says. She fills the last bottle and finally looks up at Stiles. “It’s okay, though, we’re friends.”

“Why are you crying, then?”

“Because I don’t want them to kick me out of the team, okay?” Cora snaps. “I don’t have long legs or strong arms and I can’t do a perfect ponytail because my hair is always a mess. If they ask me do so something, I have to do it. Promise me you won’t tell Derek.”

“Why are you so worried about Derek?” Stiles asks. Stiles has to tell him. Cora thinks that being used by the other cheerleaders is right, and this can’t go on.

“If he knows about this he’ll get angry, and when he’s angry he always gets in trouble. I don’t want him to get in trouble because of me.”

Stiles grabs three of the bottles and helps Cora carry them to the gym. “I won’t tell him, okay? But you should. He cares about you so much. He wants to help you. You don’t have to do what those bitches say,” Stiles tells her.

“But—who would I sit with if I’m not friends with them anymore?” Cora’s voice is so low that Stiles barely catches what she’s saying. “They don’t treat me well, but they’re the only friends I have. They sit with me at lunch and they let me hang out with them sometimes on the weekends. If I leave the team they won’t look at me twice.”

Stiles stops her by her elbow and leans down a little to look her in the eyes. “Hey, I know plenty of people who would kill to be friends with you,” he says. “You can sit with us whenever you want. Do you even like cheerleading?”

“I hate it,” Cora says. “I just thought it would make me cool.”

“You’re already cool,” Stiles says. “You’re an artist, Cora! And you’re the only person who loves rom-coms almost as much as I do. Do you think those girls are your friends?”

Cora sighs. “You’re right. They’re friends with me just because they want to sleep with Derek,” she says. “Poor girls, if only they knew he’s already gone on you.”

“I—you—what?” Stiles stutters. “Me and Derek are just friends.”

“With benefits,” Cora says, rolling her eyes. “Please, I’m young but I’m not stupid. I shouldn’t tell you because Derek really needs to use his words, but he hasn’t seen anyone from the moment you two started you...arrangement,” she says, scrunching up her nose.

“Derek is not... _gone_ on me,” Stiles says.

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Cora smirks. She inhales deep and shakes her head a little, as if to clear her thoughts. When she looks up again she’s not crying anymore and she looks more determined than Stiles has ever seen her. “Look, I have to go and tell the team I don’t want to train with them anymore. God, I can’t believe I let them do this to me.”

Stiles smiles. “Do you want me to wait here?”

“Would you do that?”

“Come on, I’ll be here when you’re done, okay?”

Cora drops the bottle she’s holding and hugs him, her head barely scratching his chin. “You’re the best, Stiles. You can buy me frozen yogurt later.”

 

*

 

“Jordan!” Stiles waves at his friend when he sees Parrish eating frozen yogurt with a younger boy. Cora looks towards Stiles’ friend and freezes, holding her frozen yogurt with both hands. She still looks a little sad about what happened at school, but she’s trying to smile when Stiles cracks a joke to cheer her up.

“Hey, Stiles,” Jordan says. He turns to his friend and smiles. “Do you know Liam? We’re in the Math Club together.”

Liam freezes and looks panicked before Stiles smiles and shakes his head, introducing Cora. The four of them sit at a free table to eat what they ordered, and Jordan and Stiles try to fill the awkward silence when both Cora and Liam refuse to speak more than a few words. Stiles shoots a questioning glare at Cora, but the girl shakes her head and looks down at her frozen yogurt, still intact.

“Liam is the only freshman in our club,” Jordan says. “He just moved from another city so he’s still trying to adjust to Beacon Hills. What about you, Cora? Liam told me you’re a cheerleader.”

Another awkward silence falls on the table when Liam’s face turns red and he elbows Jordan in the ribs.

“Liam told you?” Cora says, looking confused. She looks from Stiles to Jordan to Liam, her eyebrows raised.

“I mean, I—I noticed you at the games. Sometimes. It’s not like I was spying on you or something,” Liam stutters. His face is so red that Stiles is worried it might explode at any moment and he’s decidedly looking down at his own hands.

“Well, I’m not a cheerleader anymore,” Cora says. She seems to have found the courage to speak again, and she’s looking at Liam, who’s still hiding behind his ice-cream. “I left.”

“Yeah, she’s way better than those girls,” Stiles says. “She’s an artist.”

“Stiles, you don’t have to say it every five minutes,” Cora rolls her eyes. “I’m sure they don’t care.”

Jordan grins at Stiles and winks. “Actually, Liam is a great artist as well. He’s more into comics, though. What do you like?”

Just like that Liam is looking up again and he and Cora are talking about drawing and comics like they’ve known each other for years. Cora eats her frozen yogurt and steals a spoonful of ice-cream from Liam as well, because apparently she needs strength after her argument with the cheerleading team. Stiles’ phone buzzes in his pocket.

 **Liam has had a crush on her since the first day of school** , Jordan texts. **I didn’t know you knew Cora or I would have said something.**

Stiles reads the message and sighs happily, slumping back in his chair.

 _Looks like Cora has found a new friend_ , he texts back.

It’s only when he’s home that a sudden realization hits him. He just spent an entire evening with Parrish, joking and laughing with him, but he can’t remember a single time when he felt excited for his almost date with his long-time crush. Stiles doesn’t remember feeling butterflies in his stomach every time Jordan touched him or leaned a little too close to him.

He wonders why. Jordan is a perfect guy, good-looking and with a perfect future already planned ahead of him, but he’s not who Stiles wants. He falls asleep thinking about Derek and they way Stiles feels like fainting every time Derek touches him.

 

*

 

Stiles is naked and panting on Derek’s bed, clutching the headboard with both his hands not to fall over. Derek is right behind him, buried inside him and thrusting his hips. Derek hits his prostate and Stiles moans, smashing his head on the pillow.

“God, Derek, this is—this is better than what we usually do,” Stiles pants. He hears Derek groan behind him and Stiles smirks, holding his ass up high in the air. Derek squeezes his sides and thrusts harder, biting Stiles’ earlobe.

“How are you still talking?”

“I’m not...I mean, I am but – _oh_ —I just wanted to tell you you were doing good,” Stiles says. “You’re doing so good, Derek. Please, harder!”

Stiles can feel Derek’s lips curling up against his shoulder blade. “Anything you want, Duffy.”

Stiles freezes and lets go of the headboard, his heart clenching in his chest. Derek’s using that word again and suddenly all the passion and lust he was feeling no longer than five seconds before aren’t there anymore, replaced by a weird sickness who’s threatening to turn his stomach upside down.

“Get off me,” Stiles hisses. “Now!”

“What? Stiles, what’s wrong?” Derek asks. He pulls out and rolls away from Stiles, his dick still hard between his legs. Stiles’ is just the same, but it’s slowly softening when he stands up from the bed and starts putting on his clothes. “Hey, are you okay?” Derek asks.

Stiles can’t help it. He laughs. “Okay? Are you fucking insane? You just called me Duffy while we were having sex! What the hell is wrong with you?”

Derek looks shocked. “I—I didn’t mean it. It’s just a stupid word.”

“I asked you not to call me Duffy. Did you listen? No, because you never listen, Derek. Do you think it’s funny? Do you even know how much it hurts when you call me that? Every time you call me Duff you just make clear that you think I’m worse than you. You make clear that you’d prefer my friends over me!” Stiles says. “What are you doing, Derek? I know why I’m sleeping with you, okay? But you? You could have anybody in this town and you choose to sleep with the only person you call a Duff?”

Derek is staring at him, still naked, from the other side of the bedroom. “I thought you said this was a no string attached thing,” Derek whispers.

“It was at first, okay? I wanted to sleep with you to prove that I could have someone like you. I thought you were just a stupid jock, but you turned out to be so much more than that, Derek. I met your parents and I’m friends with your sister and I honestly think about you most of the time,” Stiles says. “And I know you don’t want a serious relationship—and I was okay with that—but I don’t want to be your Duff anymore. I’m much more than that, Derek, and it’s not my fault if you can’t see it.”

Stiles ties his shoes and leaves Derek’s bedroom, stomping down the stairs and out the door to his Jeep. He didn’t want to cry in front of Derek, but now the tears are falling on their own accord down his cheeks and Stiles can’t do anything to stop them. The word Duff has been tormenting him for weeks, since Derek first said it to him at the Jungle. Stiles thought he could get over Derek calling him Duffy, because their relationship was mostly banter anyway, and even Stiles called Derek jerk or douche every time.

Stiles thought that sex with Derek was something more intimate, though, a special moment when they forgot about who they were at school and only took care of each other. No Duffs. No stupid jocks basketball players. Just Stiles and Derek. Apparently, he was wrong. Stiles drives to his empty house and turns on the tv just to distract himself from thinking about Derek.

His phone rings and buzzes with texts, but Stiles only replies to Scott and ignores Derek all night and the next morning, when he wakes up to go to school. He knows how to avoid Derek. They’ve been in the same school for four years and, during the last weeks, Stiles had kind of memorized Derek’s schedule, so he knows exactly where to go if he doesn’t want to see him. He spends the morning looking around the corners—just in case Derek changed his schedule—but he manages to avoid him until lunch, when he pointedly sits with his back to the table where Derek’s eating with the basketball team.

“What happened?” Lydia asks. “Why aren’t you making heart-eyes at Derek?”

Stiles tells his friends everything that happened last night. He tells them how stupid he was to really believe that Derek could see him as something more than a Duff and how he had left the house and avoided Derek all day.

“That bastard,” Scott says. “I’m going to—”

“You’re not doing anything if you don’t want to get detention,” Allison says. “What did he say?”

“He said that Duff was just a stupid word,” Stiles snorts. “I don’t care what he said, I just feel so stupid because I’m so upset about this! Just a few words from that stupid jock and I’m here, hiding from him and whining about him.”

“You’re in love with him,” Lydia states. “Or you wouldn’t care about what he said so much.”

“I—I’m not in love with him!” Stiles says. “And even if I was, he still thinks I’m nothing more than a Duff. Every time he says that word, it sticks in my head and doesn’t go away. He just wanted to sleep with me.”

“I thought that was what you two agreed to,” Scott says.

“God, Scott. Stiles has feelings for him, don’t you understand?” Lydia hisses. “Stiles, you thought you could sleep with Derek without falling for him? What is wrong with you? You’re the most romantic person I know!”

“Well, you should have told me sooner.”

“We tried!” Lydia says. “You said—and I quote— _I’m the one sleeping with him, not the other way around_. That doesn’t even make sense. Look, from what you said it looks like Derek really cares about you—even if he keeps calling you Duffy. Maybe he didn’t know that word bothered you so much.”

“Yeah, maybe he said it as a joke,” Scott says. “I mean, you play Scrabble together. I don’t even do that with Allison!”

“I don’t know, guys. This is all pretty messed up,” Stiles says.

He eats his lunch and excuses himself, not looking at Derek on his way out of the cafeteria.

 

*

 

Stiles’ doorbell rings on Friday night and he runs downstairs to see who it is. Jordan is smiling at him from the threshold, holding a bag with takeaway in it.

“Jordan!” Stiles greets. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

“Yeah, I met your dad today and he invited me. Is he here?”

Stiles lets Jordan in and leads the way to the kitchen so they can set the table and heat up the food. “Not yet,” Stiles says. “ He’ll be home soon, though.”

Jordan nods and helps him with the food, chatting about his day at school. He tells Stiles that Liam can’t stop talking about Cora and he thinks they could be pretty good friends if not something more.

“Just like us,” Jordan blurts out.

The plate that Stiles is holding falls on the floor, braking in a million pieces. Stiles can’t even move or bother to clean up, because Jordan is walking slowly towards him, smiling tentatively. He steps over the broken pieces of the plate and links his arms around Stiles’ waist, pushing him against the counter. The kiss is soft and chaste, barely more than a brush of lips, and Stiles knows he should be dancing in circles around the kitchen because Jordan finally kissed him, but _he doesn’t feel anything_.

Jordan pulls away and frowns. “Did you—?”

“Yeah,” Stiles breathes. “Nothing.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jordan says. “I just thought we could have been a good match, you know? But I didn’t feel anything. It sucks, because I really like you.”

“We can still be friends,” Stiles tries. He doesn’t want to lose Jordan as a friend, because Stiles always has a great time when they’re together and they have a lot of things in common.

“Totally,” Jordan says. “You’re pretty cool. I don’t know why we’ve never talked before. I mean, we were in the same class for years.”

“Maybe you just didn’t notice me,” Stiles says.

“Oh, no. I noticed you. I think I was too shy to actually talk to you. I’m glad we’re friends now, though,” Jordan says just as the door opens and the Sheriff walks in.

“What the hell happened in here?” the Sheriff asks when he sees the broken pieces of the plate on the floor. Stiles and Jordan blurt out a credible excuse and they clean up while Stiles’ Dad gets changed. They have dinner together and Jordan doesn’t miss his chance to ask questions to the Sheriff. Stiles tries once again to focus on their conversation, but there’s only one thing that he can think about and that is driving him crazy.

Jordan had kissed him and the only person he could think about was Derek.

 

*

 

Stiles catches Cora and Liam holding hands in the school’s parking lot, smiling at each other like fools. When they both see him, they blush and try to hide their linked hands away but Stiles smirks and shakes his head.

“Too late,” he says. “I’ve already seen you.”

“Shut up, Stiles,” Cora smiles. “We were just holding hands.” She looks around the parking lot and looks relieved after a moment. “Please, don’t tell Derek. He’ll freak out if he knows I spend all this time alone with a boy.”

“Don’t worry,” Stiles says. He hasn’t talked to Derek since that day at the Hale’s house, when Derek had called him Duffy during sex. Stiles has managed to avoid him in the hallways, and during English Stiles doesn’t ever look away from the teacher. Stiles had pretended to be really interested in his pen even when Mr. Thompson had announced he and Derek got an A on their project.

“Why are you looking so sad?” Liam asks. “I swear, we’re doing nothing more than holding hands.”

Stiles laughs. “I’m not worried about you and Cora, Liam. I won’t tell Derek but you,” he says, pointing at Cora, “ should consider telling him. He really wants to be a part of your life, you know? He’s worried you’re missing Laura too much and he’s not doing a good enough job replacing her.”

“Really?” Cora asks. “I didn’t know that. Oh my god, he’s such an idiot. Just because I don’t tell him everything I do it doesn’t mean I don’t love him.” She narrows her eyes at Stiles. “What about _you_? Are you talking to him? He’s been weird lately.”

“We’re not really friends anymore,” Stiles admits.

“Oh, no. Did you two break up?”

“Cora, you know we weren’t together in the first place.”

Cora snorts. “Well, maybe you’d like to tell this to him. He’s coming here,” she says, smirking just like her brother. Stiles spins around and—sure enough—Derek is walking towards them with an angry look on his face. When Stiles turns again Cora and Liam are nowhere to be seen and he’s suddenly yanked away by a strong arm.

“Let go of me,” Stiles says through clenched teeth.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Derek says. “We need to talk.”

“I don’t have anything to tell you,” Stiles says. He frees himself from Derek’s grip and turns towards him. “You probably don’t want to be seen with the Duff.”

“Look, Stiles, I’m sorry, okay?” Derek says. “I should have never called you Duff, and I now realize how stupid I was but... It’s not like you’re the one to talk,” Derek says, crossing his arms on his chest.

“What do you mean? I’ve never called you Duff.”

“No, but you called me jerk or douche or stupid jock enough times for me to notice,” Derek says. “Do you think I liked it when you called me that? Do you think I liked knowing that you considered me just a stupid basketball player? I shouldn’t have called you Duffy—especially not when we were having sex—but you did the exact same thing.”

Derek’s words hit him like slap in the face. For a week all he could think about was Derek calling him Duffy, Derek thinking he was a loser, Derek using him for sex. Derek, Derek, Derek. But he has never thought about what Derek has just said.

“At least you can be sure that if I call you Duffy it’s because you have friends—you’re the Duff of your group. Who cares? I told you, it’s just a stupid word. Everyone who has friends plays the role of the Duff sometimes in their lives,” Derek says. “Me? I don’t even have real friends. I hang out with the team sometimes, but it’s not like they know me.”

Stiles doesn’t know what to say. True, Derek has been a jerk to him, but Stiles wasn’t better in any way and he never even realized it. He even made clear that he only wanted Derek for his body in the beginning of their relationship, and when his feeling changed he never made sure to tell Derek.

“I thought you didn’t care about me,” Stiles says. “I thought you just wanted to have sex.”

“Stiles,” Derek whispers. “I like you. Like, really like you. I can’t stop thinking about you. I wanted nothing more than to talk to you when we got that A, but you wouldn’t even look at me! You were avoiding me and I didn’t know what to do. Then Cora told me about the cheerleaders team and...” Derek stops, looking at Stiles in the eyes. “...I wanted to kill you because you didn’t tell me my sister was having problems at school. But then I wanted to thank you and kiss you because Cora told me how you helped her.”

Derek’s smiling when he’s done talking, looking at Stiles with such an hopeful expression that Stiles can’t help but smile back. “You wanted to kiss me?” Stiles asks.

Derek arches an eyebrow. “Really?” he says, but he walks closer and leans down until their lips are brushing. Derek’s kiss is so different from Jordan’s that Stiles feels like laughing and crying at the same time, fisting Derek’s shirt and pulling him closer. Derek’s hand playfully squeezes his ass and Stiles yelps, biting down on Derek’s lower lip.

“I’m so sorry, Stiles,” Derek says. “I really was a jerk to you. But I missed you so much...I didn’t know who to play Scrabble with. Cora sucks.”

“You’ve been playing with your sister?” Stiles asks. “Oh, god. You’re so cute.”

Derek smiles and kisses him again, slower this time. “I want to do this right this time,” he says. “We’re not having sex for a looong time.”

“What? No sex?” Stiles whines.

“Okay, maybe we can still have sex, but only after I take you on a real date.”

“Oh, it’s a first for you, uh?”

Derek pokes him in the ribs. “Yes. I’ve never taken anyone on a date before. Are you okay with that? Dating?”

Stiles nods and looks up at Derek. “Yes, I’m okay with that.”

 

*

 

Derek walks him to the door and pushes Stiles against the hard wood, leaning down to brush their lips together.

“I can’t wait to go on a date with you again,” Derek says. “I had a great time.”

“You can say it, Der. It was fucking perfect!”

“Yeah, it was,” Derek sighs. “So, I wanted to ask you a question? Can I? It’s kind of personal.”

Stiles frowns. “Yeah, sure. I don’t think we could get more personal than we already are.”

“Okay, so..uhm, what’s your real name? I mean, you told me Stiles was a nickname and I called you Duffy for such a long time I feel like I should know it. I want to be able to call you that.”

“It’s really difficult,” Stiles says. He grabs his phone from his pocket and types a bunch of letters, turning the screen to Derek after he’s done. Derek looks at the letters and tries to pronounce them, but he keeps opening and closing his mouth like a gaping fish. Stiles laughs, kissing him again.

“I can’t really pronounce it,” Derek says. He looks so disappointed that Stiles has to stop himself from laughing again. “I can only call you Stiles now.”

“You can call me baby,” Stiles tries.

“No.”

“Sweetheart?”

“Never.”

“Love of my life?”

“I think Stiles is fine,” Derek grins, pulling Stiles closer once again to kiss him full and deep on the lips.

Stiles breaks the kiss and smiles, open and free. “Yeah, Stiles is perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
